Diamond in the Desert

by Susan Stephens

  ‘Here’s something that will make you laugh,’ Leila said in an attempt to lift the mood. Pulling the newspaper towards her, she pointed to an article in the newspaper that referred to the three sisters as the Skavanga Diamonds. ‘They haven’t tired of giving us that ridiculous nickname.’

  ‘It’s just so patronising,’ Eva huffed, brushing a cascade of fiery red curls away from her face.

  ‘I’ve been called worse things,’ Britt argued calmly.

  ‘Don’t be so naïve,’ Eva snapped. ‘All that article does is wave a flag in front of the nose of every fortune-hunter out there—’

  ‘And what’s wrong with that?’ Leila interrupted. ‘I’d just like to see a man who isn’t drunk by nine o’clock—’

  This brought a shocked intake of breath from Britt and Eva, as Leila had mentioned something else they never spoke about. There had long been a rumour that their father had been drunk when he piloted the small company plane to disaster with their mother on board.

  Leila flushed red as she realised her mistake. ‘I’m sorry—I’m just tired of your sniping, Eva. We really should get behind Britt.’

  ‘Leila’s right,’ Britt insisted. ‘It’s crucial we keep our focus and make this deal work. We certainly can’t afford to fall out between us. That article is fluff and we shouldn’t even be wasting time discussing it. If Skavanga Mining is going to have a future we have to consider every offer on the table—and so far the consortium’s is the only offer.’

  ‘I suppose you could always give the sheikh’s representative a proper welcome, Skavanga style,’ Eva suggested, brightening.

  Leila relaxed into a smile. ‘I’m sure Britt has got a few ideas up her sleeve.’

  ‘It’s not my sleeve you need to worry about,’ Britt commented dryly, relieved that they were all the best of friends again.

  ‘Just promise me you won’t do anything you’ll regret,’ Leila said, remembering to worry.

  ‘I won’t regret it at the time,’ Britt promised dryly. ‘Unless he truly is a boffin with pebble glasses—in which case I’ll just have to put a paper bag over his head.’

  ‘Don’t become overconfident,’ Eva warned.

  ‘I’m not worried. If he proves difficult I’ll cut a hole in the ice and send him swimming. That will soon cool his ardour—’

  ‘Why stop there?’ Eva added. ‘Don’t forget the birch twig switches. You can always give him a good thrashing. That’ll sort him out.’

  ‘I’ll certainly consider it—’

  ‘Tell me you’re joking?’ Leila begged.

  Thankfully, Britt’s younger sister missed the look Britt and Eva exchanged.

  CHAPTER TWO

  BRITT WAS UNUSUALLY nervous. The breakfast meeting with the Black Sheikh’s representative had been arranged for nine and it was already twenty past when she rushed through the doors of Skavanga Mining and tore up the stairs. It wasn’t as if she was unused to business meetings, but this one was different for a number of reasons, not least of which was the fact that her car had blown a tyre on the way to the office. Changing a tyre was an energetic exercise at the best of times, enough to get her heart racing, but the circumstances of this meeting had made her anxious without that, because so much depended on it—

  ‘I’ll show myself in,’ she said as a secretary glanced up in surprise.

  Pausing outside the door to the boardroom, she took a moment to compose herself. Eva was right in that when their parents were killed Britt had been the only person qualified to take over the company and care for her two younger sisters. Their brother was… Well, Tyr was a maverick—a mercenary, for all they knew. He had been a regular soldier at one time, and no one knew where he was now. It was up to her to cut this deal; there was no one else. The man inside the boardroom could save the company if he gave a green light to the consortium. And she was late, an embarrassment that put her firmly on the back foot.

  Back foot?

  Forget that, Britt concluded as the imposing figure standing silhouetted against the light by the window turned to face her. The man was dressed conventionally in a dark, beautifully tailored business suit, when somehow she had imagined her visitor would be wearing flowing robes. This man needed no props to appear exotic. His proud, dark face, the thick black hair, which he wore carelessly swept back, and his watchful eyes were all the exotic ingredients required to complete a stunning picture. Far from the bristly nerd, he was heart-stoppingly good-looking, and it took all she’d got to keep her feet marching steadily across the room towards him.

  ‘Ms Skavanga?’

  The deep, faintly accented voice ran shivers through every part of her. It was the voice of a master, a lover, a man who expected nothing less than to be obeyed.

  Oh, get over it, Britt told herself impatiently. It was the voice of a man and he was tall, dark and handsome. So what? She had a company to run.

  ‘Britt Skavanga,’ she said firmly, advancing to meet him with her hand outstretched. ‘I’m sorry, you have me at a disadvantage,’ she added, explaining that all she had been told was that His Majesty Sheikh Sharif al Kareshi would be sending his most trusted aide.

  ‘For these preliminary discussions that is correct,’ he said, taking hold of her hand in a grip that was controlled yet deadly.

  His touch stunned her. It might have been disappointingly brief, but it was as if it held some electrical charge that shot fire through her veins.

  She wanted him.

  Just like that she wanted him?

  She was a highly sexed woman, but she had never experienced such an instant, strong attraction to any man before.

  ‘So,’ she said, lifting her chin as she made a determined effort to pitch her voice at a level suitable for the importance of the business to be carried out between them, ‘what may I call you?’

  ‘Emir,’ he replied, more aloof than ever.

  ‘Just Emir?’ she said.

  ‘It’s enough.’ He shrugged, discarding her wild fantasy about him at a stroke.

  ‘Shall we make a start?’ He looked her up and down with all the cool detachment of a buyer weighing up a mare brought to market. ‘Have you had some sort of accident, Ms Skavanga?’

  ‘Please, call me Britt.’ She had completely forgotten about the tyre until he brought it up, and now all she could think was what a wreck she must look. She clearly wasn’t making an impression as an on-top-of-things businesswoman, that was for sure.

  ‘Would you like to take a moment?’ Emir enquired as she smoothed her hair self-consciously.

  ‘No, thank you,’ she said, matching his cool. She wasn’t about to hand over the initiative this early in the game. ‘I’ve kept you waiting long enough. A tyre blew on my way to the office,’ she explained.

  ‘And you changed it?’

  She frowned. ‘Why wouldn’t I? I didn’t want to waste time changing my clothes.’

  ‘Thank you for the consideration.’ Emir dipped his head in a small bow, allowing her to admire his thick, wavy hair, though his ironic expression suggested that Emir believed a woman’s place was somewhere fragrant and sheltered where she could bake and quake until her hunter returned.

  Was he married?

  She glanced at his ring-free hands, and remembered to thank him when he pulled out a chair. She couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. She was used to fending for herself, though it was nice to meet a gentleman, even if she suspected that beneath his velvet charm Emir was ruthless and would use every setback she experienced to his advantage.

  No problem. She wasn’t about to give him an inch.

  ‘Please,’ she said, indicating a place that put the wide expanse of the boardroom table between them.

  He had the grace of a big cat, she registered as he sat down. Emir was dark and mysterious compared to the blond giants in Skavanga she was used to. He was big and exuded power like some soft-pawed predator.

  She had to be on guard at all times or he would win this game before she even knew it had been los
t. Business was all that mattered now—though it was hard to concentrate when the flow of energy between them had grown.

  Chemistry, she mused. And no wonder when Emir radiated danger. The dark business suit moulded his athletic frame to perfection, while the crisp white shirt set off his bronzed skin, and a grey silk tie provided a reassuring sober touch—to those who might be fooled. She wasn’t one of them. Emir might as well have been dressed in flowing robes with an unsheathed scimitar at his side, for seductive exoticism flowed from him.

  She looked away quickly when his black gaze found hers and held it. Damn! She could feel her cheeks blazing. She quickly buried her attention in the documents in front of her.

  Britt’s apparent devotion to her work amused him. He’d felt the same spark between them that she had, and there was always the same outcome to that. He generally relied on the first few minutes of any meeting to assess people. Body language told him so much. Up to now Skavanga had not impressed him. It was a grey place with an air of dejection that permeated both the company and the town. He didn’t need the report in front of him to tell him that the mineral deposits were running out, he could smell failure in the air. And however good this woman was at running the business—and she must be good to keep a failing company alive for so long—she couldn’t sell thin air. Britt needed to mine those diamonds in order to keep her company alive, and to do that she needed the consortium he headed up to back her.

  The town might be grey, but Britt Skavanga was anything but. She exceeded his expectations. There was a vivid private world behind those serious dove grey eyes, and it was a world he intended to enter as soon as he could.

  ‘You will relate our dealings verbatim to His Majesty?’ she said as they began the meeting.

  ‘Of course. His Majesty greets you as a friend and hopes that all future dealings between us will bring mutual respect as well as great benefit to both our countries.’

  He had not anticipated her sharp intake of breath, or the darkening of her eyes as he made the traditional Kareshi greeting, touching his chest, his mouth and finally his brow. He amended his original assessment of Britt to that of a simmering volcano waiting to explode.

  She recovered quickly. ‘Please tell His Majesty that I welcome his interest in Skavanga Mining, and may I also welcome you as his envoy.’

  Nicely done. She was cool. He’d give her that. His senses roared as she held his gaze. The only woman he knew who would do that was his sister, Jasmina, and she was a troublesome minx.

  As Britt continued to lay out her vision of the future for Skavanga Mining he thought there was a touching innocence about her, even in the way she thought she would have any say once the consortium took over. Her capable hands were neatly manicured, the nails short and unpainted, and she wore very little make-up. There was no artifice about her. What you saw was what you got with Britt Skavanga—except for the fire in her eyes, and he guessed very few had seen that blaze into an inferno.

  ‘You must find the prospect of mining the icy wastes quite daunting after what you’re used to in the desert,’ she was saying.

  He returned reluctantly to business. ‘On the contrary. There is a lot in Skavanga that reminds me of the vastness and variety of my desert home. It is a variety only obvious to those who see it, of course.’ As much as he wanted this new venture to go ahead, he wanted Britt Skavanga even more.

  * * *

  As hard as she tried to concentrate, her body was making it impossible to think, but then her body seemed tuned to Emir’s. She even found herself leaning towards him, and had to make herself sit back. Even then his heat curled around her. His face was stern, which she loved, and his scent, spicy and warm, sandalwood, maybe, it was a reminder of the exotic world he came from. Her sisters had already teased her mercilessly about Kareshi supposedly being at the forefront of the erotic arts. She had pretended not to listen to such nonsense, especially when they insisted that the people of Kareshi had a potion they used to heighten sensation. But she’d heard them. And now she was wondering if anything they’d said could be true—

  ‘Ms Skavanga?’

  She jerked alert as Emir spoke her name. ‘I beg your pardon. My mind was just—’

  ‘Wandering? Or examining the facts?’ he said with amusement.

  ‘Yes—’

  ‘Yes? Which is it?’

  She couldn’t even remember the question. The blood rush to her cheeks was furious and hot, while Emir just raised a brow and his mouth curved slightly.

  ‘Are you ready to continue?’ he said.

  ‘Absolutely,’ she confirmed, sitting up straight. She was mad for this man—crazy for him. No way could she think straight until the tension had been released.

  ‘There are some amendments I want to discuss,’ he said, frowning slightly as he glanced up at her.

  She turned with relief to the documents in front of her.

  ‘I need more time,’ she said.

  ‘Really?’ Emir queried softly.

  She swallowed deep when she saw the look in his eyes. ‘I don’t think we should rush anything—’

  ‘I don’t think we should close any doors, either.’

  Were they still talking about business? Shaking herself round, she explained that she wouldn’t be making any decisions on behalf of the other shareholders yet.

  ‘And I need to take samples from the mine before I can involve the consortium in such a large investment,’ Emir pointed out.

  He only had to speak for alarm bells to go off in every part of her body, making it impossible to think about anything other than long, moonlit nights in the desert. Not once since taking over at Skavanga Mining had she ever been so distracted during a meeting. It didn’t help that she had thought the Black Sheikh’s trusted envoy would be some greybeard with a courtly air.

  ‘Here is your copy of my projections,’ she said, forcing her mind back to business before closing her file to signify the end of the meeting.

  ‘I have my own projections, thank you.’

  She bridled at that before reminding herself that just a murmur from the Black Sheikh could rock a government, and that his envoy was hardly going to be a pushover when it came to negotiations.

  ‘Before we finish, there’s just one here on the second page,’ he said, leaning towards her.

  ‘I see it,’ she said, stiffening as she tried to close her mind to Emir’s intoxicating scent. And those powerful hands…the suppleness in his fingers…the strength in his wrists…

  He caught her staring and she started blushing again. This was ridiculous. She was acting like a teenager on her first date.

  Exhaling shakily, she sat back in the chair determined to recover the situation, but Emir was on a roll.

  ‘You seem to have missed something here,’ he said, pointing to another paragraph.

  She never missed anything. She was meticulous in all her business dealings. But sure enough, Emir had found one tiny thing she had overlooked.

  ‘And this clause can go,’ he said, removing it with a strike of his pen.

  ‘Now, just a minute—’ She stared aghast as Emir deconstructed her carefully drawn-up plan. ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘That clause does not go, and neither does anything else without further discussion, and this part of the meeting is over.’

  He sat back in his chair as she stood up, which explained why she wasn’t ready for him moving in front of her to stand in her way.

  ‘You seem upset,’ he said. ‘And I don’t want the first part of our meeting to end badly.’

  ‘Bringing in investors is a big step for me to take—’

  ‘Britt—’

  Emir’s touch on her skin was like an incendiary device, but the fact that his hand was on her arm at all was an outrage. ‘Let me go,’ she warned softly, but they both heard the shake in her voice. And surely Emir could feel her trembling beneath his touch. He must feel the heated awareness in her skin.

  He murmured something in his own language. It might as well have bee
n a spell. She turned to look at him, not keen to go anywhere suddenly.

  ‘It seems to me we have a timing problem, Britt. But there is a solution, if you will allow me to take it?’

  Emir’s eyes were dark and amused. At first she thought she must have misunderstood him, but there was no mistake, and the solution he was proposing had been in her mind for some time. But surely no civilised businessman would be willing to enter into such a risky entanglement within an hour of meeting her?

  As Emir’s hand grazed her chin she moved into his embrace, allowing him to turn her face up to his. This was no meeting between business colleagues. This was a meeting between a man and woman who were hot for each other, and the man was a warrior of the desert.

  Emir promised pleasure. He also promised a chance to forget, and, for however short a time, the prospect of that seemed preferable at this moment to doing battle endlessly on every front. How would it feel to have this big man hold her and bring her pleasure? She must have swayed towards him, for the next thing she knew he was holding her in front of him.

  ‘Why, Britt,’ he said with amusement. ‘If I’d known how badly you wanted this I’m sure we could have arranged something before the meeting.’

  Emir’s blunt approach should have shocked her—annoyed her—but instead it made her want him all the more, and as he brushed her lips with his she found herself instantly hungry, instantly frantic, for more pressure, more intimacy, and for everything to happen fast.

  But Emir was even more experienced than she had realised, and now he took pleasure in subjecting her to an agonising delay. As the clock ticked, the tension built and he held her stare with his knowing and faintly amused look. She guessed Emir knew everything about arousal, and could only hope it wouldn’t be long before he decided she had suffered enough. She voiced a cry of relief when he cupped her face in his warm, slightly roughened hands, and another when her patience was rewarded by a kiss that began lightly and then brutally mimicked the act her body so desperately craved.